Sweeney Todd: Lovett's Return
by Chibi Scissorwoman
Summary: A year has passed since the deaths of Sweeney Todd and Claudetta Lovett. Now, somebody from Mrs. Lovett's past has shown up on Fleet Street, searching for her. Will Toby be the one to reveal that Mrs. Lovett is gone, and how will the stranger react?
1. Prologue: Return to London

_**A/N:**__** Hey! This is my first Sweeney Todd fanfic! Le disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd, and if I did, I'd be really rich right now... XD Its current title is the working title; I might change it before the end of the story, so... heh. Oh yes... In this story, Mrs. Lovett's first name is Claudetta. I read that Claudetta was one of the first names that she's been given, and I was like, hey, I like that one best, so I'm using it. The only image of Mrs. Lovett in my head is Helena Bonham Carter as her, so... yesh. I'll stop blabbering now. Please R/R!!  
**_

_**Prologue: Return to London**_

Climbing out of the cab, she surveyed her surroundings.

"This it, ma'am?" asked the driver. The girl hesitated a moment before answering.

"Yes," she said. "Fleet Street this is." The driver nodded, rolled up the window, and drove away.

The girl looked at the building in front of her, and as she read the sign, a smile lifted her tiny lips. Mrs. Lovett's meat pies. She remembered this shop. She remembered it very well. Its reputation was engraved fondly in her memory: Mrs. Lovett was known for making the worst pies in London. The girl hadn't had one of her pies in a long time... it'd been about eight years. Eight _years_... She couldn't believe that was how long she spent in the United States. She'd been sent to America because her mother hadn't had enough money to care for her as a child... but now she was back, and old enough to work to sustain herself. Maybe not to live alone, but she could help out her mother. She planned to work and help out Mrs. Lovett at the shop, actually...

She shook her head. She might actually want to go _into _the shop instead of just standing outside and staring at it!

She picked up her bag and pushed open the door, stepping into the shop. The first thing she saw was a brown-haired boy behind the shop counter, furiously cleaning it. The girl walked up to the counter, setting her bag on the floor.

"Hello," she said, leaning on it. "I'm looking for Mrs. Claudetta Lovett..." The boy quickly looked up at her.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he repeated, a sliver of sorrow in his eyes.

"Yeah," the girl replied. "Mrs. Lovett. Can you tell me where she is, or could you go get her or something, please?"

"Who are you, please?" the boy asked.

"My name's Catherine," said the girl.


	2. Chapter 1: Visiting the Shop

_**A/N: Chapter 1 is up!! Yay!! Again, for the familiar disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd... please enjoy and review! **_

_**Chapter 1: Visiting the Shop**_

Tobias Ragg walked the streets of London, carrying his shoeshining kit and looking for potential customers. Shoeshining was all he'd been doing for the past year, ever since he had ended the demon barber Sweeney Todd's life because Sweeney had killed his beloved mother figure, Mrs. Lovett. Tobias, or Toby, had all but put the tragic affair from his mind, attempting to continue his young life. He hadn't entirely abandoned Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, though; even though the place was deserted now, he would go there every so often to clean it up some.

"Hey, kid!" A man's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see a tall man in a suit in front of him.

"Are you the shoeshining boy?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir," Toby replied. "Would you like a shoeshine?"

"Yes, I would," the man replied. "Hurry it up, boy, I'm on a tight schedule here!"

"Yes, sir!" Toby nodded and quickly set up in front of a shining chair. The man took his seat, and Toby began shining his shoes.

A few minutes later, Toby stood up. "Finished, sir," he said. The man looked down at his shoes, then grudgingly tossed him a couple of coins.

"Do better next time," the man ordered, getting up from the chair. Toby nodded and stuffed the coins into his pocket. He gathered his kit together again and left.

About an hour later, he noticed that twilight was beginning to set in. It was going to be dark soon... Where was he going to sleep tonight? He stopped on the sidewalk and thought for a bit. He could always go back to the alley like he'd been doing... but then a thought occurred to him. It'd been a couple of weeks since he last visited Mrs. Lovett's pie shop. He ought to step in and clean it up a bit. He could even sleep there tonight!

"That's what I'll do," he said. He resumed walking down the street.

A few minutes later, Toby reached Fleet Street and Mrs. Lovett's shop. He took a breath, then pushed open the door and walked in.

It was dark and silent; the world of a deserted place. No sign of life was evident anywhere; everything was dead. As dead as it was the night Sweeney Todd died. The night Mrs. Lovett burned to death.

Toby dropped his shoeshining kit as the familiar flood of rage and sadness burned through him. "Hello, Mum," he said, using the name he had given Mrs. Lovett when she was alive. "I'm back again."

He yawned. Even though it was so early, he was tired. It had been a busy day... quite a few customers. He went into the back room, climbed into the biggest chair he could find and settled in. He could clean the shop tomorrow, before he went out shoeshining. There'd be time for that before he left.

He curled up in the chair and went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2: A Visitor Stops By

**_A/N:_ Sorry for not updating in so long... ;;;; I've been busy with school and finals and graduation practice (I'm in band)! But now it's summer... so I should be updating more often. Yay!**

**Well... enjoy this chappy!! **

_**Chapter 2: A Visitor Stops By**_

_"Toby... Where are you, love?"_

_Hiding around the corner, concealed in the darkness of the sewers, he watched as the two tall figures wandered, searching for him. _

_"Nothing's gonna harm you... Not while I'm around..."_

_"Toby!"_

_Two voices, one soft and coaxing, one harsh and angry. He longed to go and embrace the woman, but he knew the barber would kill him if he did. _

_"Nothing's gonna harm you, darling... Not while I'm around..."_

_"Toby!"_

_He held his breath and waited for the footsteps to disappear. He closed his eyes, stood there for maybe fifteen minutes. Then..._

_"Aaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaah!"_

_A bloodcurdling scream. _

Toby instantly sat up in the chair, wide awake and terrified. A nightmare... it was only a nightmare. His heart pounding, he remembered that he had dreamed the night of both deaths... the demon barber... Mrs. Lovett. So... he still hadn't quite gotten over that night, if he was still dreaming about it. Well, it would take some time to get over it, but he never thought it would take _this _long... an entire year?

Oh well. His stomach rumbled, alerting him to his hunger. Perhaps... even though they were made of people, there was still a pie left in the bakehouse somewhere...

He got up and wandered into the bakehouse. The furnace was unlit, the large, rusty meat grinder was still standing, though the room was empty; the corpses had been cleared out long ago. Mrs. Lovett's body hadn't been removed, though; it had been reduced to ash. But... in the back of the room, on the shelves... As he walked over, he saw that two pies still remained. Good... Those would sustain him for today and tomorrow. He picked up a pie and bit into it, grimacing a bit. Even though it was a year old, the pie still carried the trademark of being one of the worst pies in London. Even though it tasted horrible, he smiled.

"You kept a couple of pies here, did you, Mum?" he said to the empty room. "You wouldn't let 'em take 'em." He stood down there, eating the pie. In a few minutes, he finished, and he left the bakehouse for the actual shop.

Standing behind the counter, he examined the flat surfaces around him. They were quite dirty; it was amazing how much filth the shop could accumulate in merely two weeks. Heaving a sigh, Toby withdrew a rag from his pocket and started scrubbing the countertop.

Two hours later, Toby still wasn't finished. It seemed that the more he cleaned, the faster it would get dirty again. It was rather frustrating, but still Toby was content to do the job. It had become an obsession to clean Mrs. Lovett's shop, and each time, he felt a compulsion to clean it until he was satisfied.

He suddenly heard the sound of the shop door opening, but he didn't look up. He continued to clean instead, fixed on ignoring the visitor. Hopefully they'd just turn around and leave...

"Hello," said a girl's voice. "I'm looking for Mrs. Claudetta Lovett..." The mention of the name compelled Toby to look up into the eyes of a young-looking teenage girl.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he repeated with a hint of sorrow.

"Yeah," the girl replied. "Mrs. Lovett. Can you tell me where she is, or could you go get her or something, please?"

"What's your name, please?" Toby requested.

"My name's Catherine," the girl replied. "Catherine Lovett. Mrs. Lovett's my mother. Can you tell me where she is?"


	4. Chapter 3: She Had a Daughter?

_**Chapter 3: She Had a Daughter?**_

Toby was speechless. The girl's last name was... Lovett? She was Mrs. Lovett's daughter? How was that possible? Mrs. Lovett had never mentioned any children...

He looked at her again. She looked younger then him; maybe thirteen or fourteen at most. Her hair was long, a bit curly, and extremely dark brown, while her eyes were a brownish hazel. The dress she was wearing reminded him of Mrs. Lovett, for it looked like the kind of dress she would wear, only this one was black.

"N-Nice to meet you, Catherine," Toby finally choked out. "How old're you?"

"I'm sixteen," Catherine replied in that peculiar voice of hers. She had a strange accent: it was British, but then again it wasn't. It seemed to be British mixed with something else. French, maybe? No, that didn't sound like French...

"I just came back to London from America," Catherine explained. "Been there since I was eight. Mum sent me there 'cause she didn't have enough money to care for me here."

"That explains..." started Toby.

"The way I speak, yes," Catherine replied. "I've got a strange accent and I use different words a lot of the time. Ah well. I'm still full-blood British. Who might you be, love?"

Something in the way she said "love" made Toby hesitate, instantly reminding him of Mrs. Lovett. "Um... my name's Toby," he finally replied. "Toby Ragg."

"Cute," said Catherine.

"What are you doing back in London?" Toby asked. "Why did you come back... if you don't mind me asking."

"Don't mind at all," Catherine replied. "I came back because I figured I'm old enough to help Mum in the shop so she doesn't have to work alone. She wrote me letters every so often... The most recent one I got was that the shop was doing well and she was working with a man. A barber, named Sweeney Todd." The mention of Sweeney's name made Toby's heart skip a beat. So... Catherine _did _know about Todd... but did she know...

"Mum said Mr. Todd was a very sweet man, very handsome and talented with the knife," Catherine continued. "She told me I'd love him. I told her I couldn't wait to meet him." Toby nodded, struggling to keep himself from screaming at the girl.

"Would you like a pie, missus?" he asked, desperate for an excuse to get away from her and contemplate the current situation.

"Of course I do," Catherine smiled. "I haven't had one of Mum's meat pies in forever!" Toby nodded again.

"Um, sit down, and I'll be back," he instructed. Catherine nodded, and he disappeared into the bakehouse.

He leaned against the wall, catching his breath. He was ridden with shock. Catherine Lovett... a sixteen-year-old girl... Mrs. Lovett's daughter. Actually... now that he though about it a bit, she _did _rather resemble Mrs. Lovett a bit, especially in the ways she spoke and dressed. But... still... her _daughter?_ She was only as old as Toby was... but she didn't know Mrs. Lovett was dead. She'd also wanted to meet Sweeney Todd... but he was dead too. Toby realized he had a sudden burden. How was he going to tell her that her mother was dead? How would she react? How...

"Mr. Ragg, sir?" Catherine's voice suddenly sounded. "Are you all right?"

Toby shook himself from his thoughts and dashed over to the shelves. He grabbed the last pie and rushed back up to the shop.

"Sorry, missus," he apologized, putting the pie on a plate and giving it to her. "You can call me Toby if you want."

"All right," said Catherine, smiling. "Call me Catherine, okay, love?"

There it was again. "Love." When she said it, it was like Mrs. Lovett was speaking through her.

"All right," Toby replied. Catherine smiled and bit into the pie. Her expression didn't change even as she chewed, and when she swallowed, she sighed contentedly.

"I know these're called the worst pies in London," she commented, "but t'me, they're one of the most delicious things I e'er tasted. All 'cause Mum made 'em. Did ya know, the entire time I was in America, I missed 'er. Sometimes blamed meself because she couldn't take care of me, even though I knew it wasn't my fault. Mum was a charming, beautiful lady. You think so, Toby dear?"

"Mrs. Lovett was very kind," Toby agreed. "I liked her."

"You know, she told me 'bout you," Catherine remarked. "She said you'd been working for some Italian guy--"

"Guy?" Toby questioned. Catherine looked at him.

"Oh, that's right," she said. "I forgot I was in London again... heh! Bloke, then. Anyway, she said you'd been working for some Italian bloke called Pirelli."

"Yes, ma'am," Toby said, used to talking to Mrs. Lovett. "But before him, I lived in the workhouse."

"That's what she told me," said Catherine. "She said Pirelli wasn't a very pleasant bloke. Anyway..." She stopped talking and finished the pie.

"Do you mind if I look around a bit?" she asked, standing up. "There's something strange about this place... I can feel it."

"Go right ahead," Toby replied. Catherine had more of a right to be here than he had; he wouldn't stop her.

Catherine began to walk around the shop, her eyes closed. She seemed to be trying to sense something, but Toby didn't know what it was. She suddenly exited the shop, and Toby followed her. As he watched her climb the steps outside the shop, he suddenly realized where she was going: Sweeney's barbershop. He didn't know what was up there, and he raced up the steps after her. He was right behind her as she opened the door and stepped inside.

"So..." she said as Toby moved to stand next to her. "This is the infamous barbershop Mum wrote me about. Hmm... seems like Mr. Todd isn't here... Neither of them are here! That's rather odd..." She started wandering around the place, her eyes open this time.

"Rather nice place he got here," she said, "even if it is a little small." She suddenly crossed over to the table and opened a small brown box. Toby reached her just in time to see her eyes widen and a smile lift her face as she picked up one of the still-silver knives and opened it.

"These are beautiful," she murmured, examining them. She ran a finger along the sharp edge of the blade. "Ow! And sharp, too," she said as a drop of blood suddenly ran down the clean, cold silver. She stuck her injured finger in her mouth as she wiped the blade on the skirt of her dress.

"Hmm..." she said, closing the razor. "I like these things!" She turned towards Toby, still clutching it in her hand. "I wonder if he's ever killed anyone with these!" she said, smiling. Toby's expression turned to horror, and Catherine stared at him.

"Aw, I was only kidding," she said after a moment. "I doubt Mr. Todd could do something like that. From what Mum wrote about him, he's a very sweet bloke."

With this declaration, Toby knew he had to tell her the truth about Mrs. Lovett, and soon. He thought Catherine to be quite an eccentric character, and he didn't know what she'd do of she discovered the truth on her own.

"Um, Catherine," he started.

"Yes?" Catherine asked. She smiled again, and Toby had to stop. He couldn't find it in his heart to tell her... not right now.


	5. Chapter 4: The First Meat Pie

_**A/N: 'Ello again! Sorry it's been a while since I've updated... I had minor writer's block with this chappy. But, eventually I got out of it, and here's the final result!! Read, enjoy, and please review! I love you all! **_

_**Chapter 4: The First Meat Pie**_

The next day, Toby walked out of the back room into the shop to find a sleeping Catherine lying on her side on the counter. She was curled up, using her bag as a pillow, and her dress looked even fluffier than usual. One hand still clutched the silver razor, and her face was lifted in a small smile. Toby found himself thinking she was rather cute when she slept, and shook his head rapidly. No... he felt no attraction, he told himself sternly. She was just a friend... who happened to be Mrs. Lovett's daughter. No romantic attraction whatsoever...

He debated on whether he should wake her up. After a few moments, he decided against it, and instead he took a rag out of his pocket and started cleaning the table.

He heard rustling a few minutes later and looked up to see Catherine sitting up on the counter and rubbing her eyes. She looked over at him and said, "G'morning, Toby dear."

"Morning," Toby greeted.

"You sleep well?" Catherine asked.

"Yes," Toby replied. "Did you?"

She nodded. "I slept out here in case Mum or Mr. Todd walked in," she said. "But, none of them did. I wonder where they are, and why they haven't come back..."

Toby's face paled. He was aware of it, and he quickly bent his head.

"Anything wrong?" Catherine asked. Toby looked up at her again and smiled.

"No," he answered. "Nothing's wrong."

"Oh," said Catherine. "Okay." She swung her legs out off the counter and started humming. Toby resumed cleaning, but looked up moments later, listening to her.

"La la la la la la..." Catherine sang softly, but loud enough for Toby to hear. "Not while I'm around..."

His eyes widened. He knew that song... He'd sung it once!

"Nothing's gonna harm you, darling, not while I'm around..." She suddenly noticed Toby looking at her and stopped singing. "Something wrong?"

"Where'd you learn that song?" Toby asked.

"Mum sang it a lot when I was little," Catherine replied. "I got scared a bloody lot when I was a kid. Anyway..." She slipped off the counter and opened the razor. She raised it so the sun reflected off the blade and gazed at it. "I want... to make a pie," she declared, staring at the blade hungrily. She then looked back over at Toby and smiled. He gave a tiny flinch: The light in her eyes was evil, her smile malevolent. It was the same knowing, murderous expression Todd had had when he was still alive.

Catherine closed the razor and said, "I know how to make one; it isn't that hard. Do you want to go out and get the stuff? Mum told me you've helped her before, so you know what to do."

"Um... yeah, sure," Toby replied. "Don't worry, I've got money. I'll be back!" Catherine smiled.

"All right, then!" she said. "See you, Toby dear!"

Toby smiled and quickly left the shop.

Catherine watched him leave the shop with a smile. After the door swung shut, she giggled to herself and opened the razor again. Staring down at it, she said, "I wonder where Mum and Mr. Todd are... For all intents and purposes, they should be here... hm." She moved the razor so it caught the light again, and a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Maybe Toby dear _does_ know where they are," she said. "Maybe he knows... and he just isn't telling me!" She gasped. "By God... that means the poor bloke's lyin' to me! Oh... but why would he do that? Mm... oh well. I won't question him _too _much... I'll just ask 'im one last time. Yep, that's what I'll do!"

She closed the razor and wandered into the bakehouse.

"Catherine!" Toby called, walking into the shop with a bagful of ingredients. As he set them on the counter, Catherine bounced into the room.

"Toby dear! You're back!" she exclaimed, pouncing on him and engulfing him in a hug. "It's been a while! What took you so long, dearie?"

"It's only been a couple of hours," Toby replied, a slight blush on his cheeks. Catherine straightened up, looked at his face, and grinned.

"You're blushing, love," she said. Toby's eyes widened, and Catherine went behind the counter. She pulled the bag towards her and started pulling out everything she needed to make a pie. Toby started to go behind the counter to help her, but she refused, brandishing a rolling pin at him.

"This is my pie, and I'm making it myself!" she declared. Toby stepped back, a bit startled.

She started humming merrily as she rolled out the dough. As she continued to make the pie, Toby was a bit baffled at how much she resembled Mrs. Lovett. Perhaps it was the way her hair was styled (in two ponytails on either side of her head) and how the ends fell upon her pale collarbones. Perhaps it was the black dress she wore, how it was designed exactly like Mrs. Lovett's always were. Or maybe it was the gloves that decorated her hands: The fingers were missing, the fabric a solid black, not transparent like her mother's. But even as she dusted the flour off her hands and tossed the rolling pin over her shoulder, Toby couldn't help but marvel at the way she looked. Catherine Lovett... Mrs. Lovett.

A few minutes later, she finished the pie, putting the top of the crust on. "All right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Pie's done! Come on, Toby dear, let's put it in the oven!"

Toby stood up as she picked up the plate with the unbaked pie. She picked up the razor, stuck it in the top of her dress, and proceeded to walk to the bakehouse. After a moment, Toby shrugged and followed her.

He found her staring at the oven, a look of confusion on her face, still holding the pie.

"How do you turn this bugger on?" she wondered. "Obviously you have to light it, but I'm not sure how... hm." She stood for a bit, contemplating.

After a moment, she walked up and kicked the side of the oven. "Work, you bloody thing," she muttered, kicking it a few more times. Suddenly, to Toby's amazement, light began to flicker through the bakehouse.

"There we go," said Catherine, a smile in her voice. "So _that's_ how you turn that on! Well, don't these things work rather oddly!" She opened the door, placed the pie on the rack, then slammed the door shut.

"There's my first pie!" she declared. "Hope it's good! Speaking of... oh, Toby dearie..." She turned to him, and he retreated a little. The smile she wore looked terrifyingly evil, as though she was waiting for just the perfect opportunity to slaughter him. Wait... why did he always think she was going to kill him? She was only sixteen... She wouldn't kill anybody. She was too sweet. Maybe a little crazy... eccentric, even... but too sweet. It was just plain stupid for him to think like that.

"I've got a little question for you, Toby dearie," she said, walking slowly towards him. Toby backed up until he met the wall. Catherine let out a little giggle and darted forward, her dress sweeping behind her, her hand catching his hair and trapping him against the wall. His heart started pounding as those penetrating brownish hazel eyes burned into his own.

"What is it, Catherine?" he asked.

Her voice turned sweet. "How about you tell me where Mum and Mr. Todd are?"


	6. Chapter 5: The Truth of Catherine's Rage

_**A/N: See, I told you it wouldn't be too long! Here's chappy 5! The ending might not be too great, but whatever. Enjoy this chappy! hugs**_

_**Chapter 5: The Truth of Catherine's Rage**_

Toby flinched. "What?" he said, a bit fearful.

"I _said, _tell me where they are!" Catherine demanded. "You know where they are; I know you do! You're just not telling me! You never answer me when I ask about them, but I want answers, and I want them now! Tell me, or I swear to God I'll cut you up! _Where are they?"_

Toby cringed at her anger. "They're... not here," he managed.

"I _know _that, it's rather obvious," Catherine let out, exasperated. "Where are they?"

"They're..." He hesitated, taking a breath. He dared to look in Catherine's eyes: They were burning with anger, and they looked more brown than hazel. Kind of pretty, actually...

"Well? Are you going to tell me or not?" her angry yet sweet voice demanded. He swallowed and summoned all his courage.

"They're... dead," he finally confessed. Catherine's eyes widened, and she stepped back. Her face wore a horrified expression.  
"Dead?" she whispered. Toby nodded. She suddenly collapsed to her knees, staring at the floor.

"How... how did it..." she murmured. Toby moved away from the wall and knelt next to her.

"I was there," he told her. "I know what happened."

"What happened?" Catherine asked flatly, her gaze fixed on the floor. Toby looked at the floor as well as the memory of that night came flooding back to him.

"She died first," he said after a minute or two. "Mrs. Lovett did. She and Mr. Todd were having an argument... The oven was open, the fire was going..."

"She got thrown in," Catherine concluded, her eyes narrowing a little.

"Yeah." Toby nodded.

"And Sweeney Todd threw her in."

"Yes."

"How'd he die, then?"

"He got his throat slit."

"Oh, really? Who did that? Suicide? Out of regret for killing my mother?" Her tone turned slightly angry, and Toby gave the tiniest flinch.

"No," he answered, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "It wasn't a suicide."

"Who killed him, then?"

He hesitated, debating on telling her the truth. She'd probably kick him out if he lied, but then again... she'd probably hate him if he confessed. But... he had promised Mrs. Lovett he wouldn't hide anything from her, and it'd only make sense that that promise would stretch to her daughter too. It was best to tell her the truth, he decided... and just face the consequences, whatever those would be.

"...I did."

Catherine finally raised her head, looking over at him. He looked over at her, into her eyes: The dual colors were dim, clouded with some negative emotion. Was it anger... or hatred... or even sadness? Toby couldn't tell, but he knew there was definitely something there.

Catherine looked away from him, staring straight ahead instead. "Oh," she said, shrugging. An awkward silence followed.

"They're both dead..." she finally spoke. "My mum... is dead..."

"Are you all right, Catherine?" Toby asked hesitantly. Catherine's head whirled to look at him.

"Yeah," she replied, looking away again. "What's dead is dead, I suppose. No use brooding away about it down here." She stood up, brushed off her dress, and said, "I'll be in the shop," before leaving the bakehouse, leaving Toby alone.

Catherine entered the shop and went behind the counter, going over the news in her mind. She looked down and picked up the old rolling pin from the floor, leaning against the counter. She thought about what Toby had told her. Both her mum and Sweeney Todd... dead. Rage began to fill her, and she tightened her grip on the rolling pin. Her mother had burned to death, and what was worse, Sweeney Todd was the one who had caused her death! Sweeney Todd! The man she had read about so much... the man her mother had said so many good things about... had... murdered Claudetta Lovett, the woman so many knew as Mrs. Lovett... her mother!

She let out an enraged scream and swung the rolling pin, striking the bottles of ale and gin, causing them to fall and shatter with an equally angered crash.

Toby jumped up, hearing a scream, and dashed up to the shop when he heard a loud smash.

"Catherine!" he shouted, seeing her. She was locked in a dangerous fury, swinging the rolling pin around, sending plates and glasses and utensils flying, smashing them into pieces. She let out another furious scream and swung the rolling pin into another stack of glasses. As they fell and shattered into bits of glass at her feet, Toby knew he had to stop her before she tore the shop apart.

"Catherine!" he shouted again as he saw her raise her rolling pin once more. She hesitated, then tossed it across the shop, pulling out her razor as the pin landed on the ground with a loud clunk. Opening it, she let out another scream as she raised it over her head.

Toby had seen people who would hurt themselves when angry, and he knew in a split second that Catherine was more than likely one of those people.

"Catherine, don't!" he cried as she started to bring it down. He tackled her to the ground, knocking the razor out of her hand and sending it skittering across the floor.

"Damn him!" she screamed, struggling to reach her razor. "Damn that bloody bastard Sweeney Todd! _Damn him! _Nobody kills my mother! _Nobody!"_ She started pounding her fist ferociously into the floor. _"Nobody kills Claudetta Lovett! _Nobody steals my mum from me! Damn that Sweeney Todd to hell!" Tears filled her eyes as she continued to scream. "I hate him! He stole my mum! He took her bloody life! _He killed her!_ Damn him, the bloody demon barber! May God _smite _him, make him suffer for all blasted eternity for what he did to my mum! God damn it... I hate him!"

She pounded the floor once more, then collapsed fully onto the floor, hiding her face from Toby. He knew she was crying; her shoulders shook as she sobbed. He didn't know what else to do except move to her side and wrap an arm around her, bringing her to him.

They remained in that position for a few minutes, and then Catherine finally pushed herself up into a sitting pose. Her cheeks were stained with tear tracks, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Tears started to well up again, but she impatiently brushed them away with one of her gloved hands.

"Enough crying, Catherine," she muttered to herself. "You look like a silly child." She then took a breath and turned to Toby. "How long since they... died?" she questioned.

"About a year," Toby answered.

"A year..." Catherine repeated, looking away. "Well... that's just bloody brilliant, isn't it? Dead a year ago and nobody's bothered telling me until now. Can't say I believe in fate, because I don't, but this seems to be... Lovett destiny, I guess."

"What are you talking about?" Toby asked, a bit confused.

"Well, this is the way things are _apparently _working now," said Catherine. "A year after I was born, my father died. A year before I came back, Mum got murdered. Who's going to be the next one to die? The way this is going, I'm going to be dead within a year. I know London's goal now... Eliminate the Lovetts!"

"That's horrible," said Toby.

"Eh, whatever," she said, shrugging. "I'm not all that worried about it. I die, I die. I don't really care. We all die eventually, right?" She looked over at Toby, who stared at her.

"Might as well go check on that pie," she said, getting up. "And then clean all this up. I kind of messed up the shop, didn't I? Eh... oh well. I'll clean it up." She then walked out back into the bakehouse.

Toby remained sitting, a bit overwhelmed at Catherine's actions. Was she bipolar or something? Her mood swing... her change in behavior... she must be bipolar, Toby decided. Nobody recovered from distressing news _that _fast... unless that was embedded in her by Mrs. Lovett...

He had a sudden curiosity about her childhood. How was this eccentric girl brought up? He meant to ask her... but he knew now wasn't a good time.

Instead, he stood and began cleaning the shop.


	7. Chapter 6: A Lovett Childhood

_**A/N: Well, I'm back! With chappy 6! Hope you enjoy this one... I wrote it with a bad hand, so it might not be as good as the others. Heh... but enjoy anyway! **_

**_Oh yes, because of mature subject matter in chappy 7, I might have to up the rating to M... so that's just a warning for my readers. Enjoy this chappy, and I love reviews!! _**

_**Chapter 6: A Lovett Childhood**_

A couple of hours later, Catherine was resting in a chair in the back room. She sighed wearily. She was exhausted... from both her little spat earlier and cleaning up afterwards. She admitted to herself, she let her temper get the best of her... and her mum had always told her never to let that happen... but all she wanted to do right now was sleep. She would scold herself later.

A nagging voice in the back of her head told her that if she really wanted to sleep, she should either be on her counter or in her mum's bed, but she didn't want to move... This chair was so warm, so soft, so comfortable... Her eyes began to flutter closed as drowsiness took over... Ah, sweet sleep...

"Catherine?"

An inquiring voice suddenly sounded through the room, interrupting her half-slumber. Catherine opened her eyes and groaned inwardly. _Why _did Toby have to come in _now, _pestering her about something? For God's sake, she was trying to sleep!

"What is it, Toby dear?" she asked tiredly, hoping he'd notice her voice and go away. To her dismay, however, he walked over and sat down on the floor next to her.

"I was just wondering," he said, looking up at her. "What... what was your childhood like? I mean... what were you like when you were little?"

"Same as I am now," Catherine replied a bit grumpily. "Eccentric, morbid, and friendly. The end."

"Please, will you tell me about it?" asked Toby. "I really do want to know about your... life." Catherine sighed. It might just be her sleepiness, but... this boy was so damn _annoying _right now... She'd do anything to shut him up...

"Oh, all right," she said. "I don't remember that much, I'm telling you now."  
"It doesn't matter," said Toby.

"All right," she said. "How about this one: I was eight years old. Mum was telling me about plans for the future..." As she began talking, the memory began flooding back to her.

_"Catherine, love! Where are you?" _

_Mrs. Claudetta Lovett rushed out of her shop, her eyes widening as she saw her daughter in the middle of the road. "Catherine!" she cried, rushing forward and scooping the small girl out of the crowded street as fast as she could._

_"Catherine, what're you doing?" she exclaimed, setting her back on her feet and enveloping her in a hug. "You know it's dangerous out there, love..."_

_"Aw, I was only playing," eight-year-old Catherine replied, fidgeting with the skirt of her dark crimson dress, not meeting her mother's eyes. Mrs. Lovett sighed. _

_"What have I told you?" she asked. She then gripped her daughter's chin, tilting her head upwards so she could look into her eyes. Catherine met her eyes with a wide, earnest gaze. _

_"Carriages in the streets," the little girl answered. _

_"That's right," Mrs. Lovett said. "I don't want you getting hurt, love, you understand?"_

_"Yes," Catherine replied, her eyes brightening. Mrs. Lovett smiled and let go of her chin. _

_"All right," she said. "Come on, let's go make pies for the customers."_

_"All right!" Catherine shouted, running merrily into the shop. Mrs. Lovett followed her fondly. What a charming little girl she was..._

_She entered the somewhat crowded shop to find Catherine behind the counter, standing on a small stool, banging a lump of dough with a rolling pin and laughing as she did so. Mrs. Lovett walked across and behind, taking the rolling pin._

_"You go see what everybody wants and give it to them," she said._

_"All right!" said Catherine before sprinting off. _

_Catherine rushed through the shop, doing what her mother requested. She had had to run down to the bakehouse a couple of times to get fresh, hot pies, but she didn't mind in the slightest. She was used to it; it had become the only way of life. _

_As she carried the bottle of ale to one of the tables, a voice said, "Hello, little Lovett child." _

_She looked up and saw none other than Judge Turpin, a man whom she knew her mother didn't like very much... in fact, she claimed to despise him. But that was only what she told Catherine. On the outside, she treated the judge like she did every other person: very kind, very friendly... but on the inside, Catherine knew her mother hated him. _

_"Mr. Judge Turpin," Catherine stated, not looking at him as she poured him some ale. As she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm, holding her back. _

_"Not quite yet," he muttered. "Let me look at you."_

_She turned her head slowly around to face him, but she refused to look into his eyes. He shook her. "Look at me," he growled.  
"I don't have to," Catherine defied, moving her eyes away from his face. His eyes narrowed, and he shook her once more. _

_"Arrogant Lovett," he spat just loud enough for Catherine, but not anyone else, to hear. "Look at me now, or you'll regret it." This statement didn't frighten the young girl at all, but she knew she had to feign fear. She slowly moved her scared, dark eyes to meet his fierce ones. _

_After a moment of their eyes meeting, with Catherine glaring and the man staring, Judge Turpin held the girl against him and muttered in her ear, "Little Catherine Lovett... You're just like your mother, you are. Arrogant, proud... no wonder the people of Fleet Street are frightened of you." Catherine's eyes narrowed._

_"Let go of me," she said in a voice innocent yet venomous. The judge kept her in his grip a little longer, then finally let her go. _

_"It was nice seeing you, little Lovett!" he called as she quickly walked away. She rolled her eyes. Stupid bloody judge... wouldn't leave her alone!_

_She slammed the bottle of ale down onto the counter then, ignoring her mother's questions, the eight-year-old stormed down into the bakehouse, slamming the door as she went. Rage began to fill her. How dare that judge speak of her mother that way! Her mother was an honorable woman, a very nice lady! How dare he speak of her the way he did! _

_She let out a yell and grabbed one of the spare glasses from the shelf behind her, throwing it at the oven. It shattered with a satisfying crash, and she grinned and picked another glass up. She yelled wordlessly once more and threw it at the oven again. It smashed to the floor, and Catherine started giggling somewhat evilly. She threw two more glasses, her laughing rising in volume with each glass broken. _

_As she was about to throw her fifth glass, Mrs. Lovett suddenly ran in, her eyes worried. Catherine looked over at her, while Mrs. Lovett ran over and scooped her up in her arms, taking the glass from her. _

_"Catherine!" she exclaimed, setting it down. "What're you doing?"_

_"I'm playing," Catherine replied innocently. Mrs. Lovett looked down into her large brown-hazel eyes. _

_"What are you throwing glasses for, love?" she asked, her tone calmer. _

_"Because I'm mad," answered the girl._

_"You're mad?" Mrs. Lovett repeated. "About what?"_

_"That bloody Judge Turpin," Catherine spat. "Why does he always have to come to the shop, Mum? Why? Why can't he leave us alone?"_

_Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Catherine..." she began._

_"Why can't you ever kick him out?" Catherine demanded. _

_"It's not as easy as that, dearie," Mrs. Lovett replied. "We have to serve him, just like we serve everybody else."_

_"Well, why can't he ever leave us alone?" she shouted. _

_Her mother sighed again. "I think it's time I told you something, love," she said. She set Catherine down. "Come on. Everyone's nearly gone, so we can afford to be alone." _

_Catherine nodded and followed Mrs. Lovett out of the bakehouse._

_When they reached the back room, Catherine bounced onto Mrs. Lovett's bed while her mother sat next to her. _

_"Come here, dear," she said, her arms outstretched. Catherine nodded and obliged by bouncing into her lap. _

_"What is it?" she asked, looking up at her. Mrs. Lovett sighed once again. _

_"Catherine... Life's going to change around here," she said without prologue._

_"Am I getting another dad?" Catherine asked. _

_Mrs. Lovett smiled. "No, you're not getting another dad," she replied._

_Catherine let out a sigh of relief. "Good!" she exclaimed. "It's just gonna stay you and me, right?"_

_"Er... that's what I have to talk to you about, dearie. You know how we haven't had much money lately?" Catherine nodded. She knew very well how her mother hadn't had much money... Customers just weren't flocking into the shop as much as they had been a few years ago, and even then, they were underpaying for their pies. Then again... Mrs. Lovett's pies weren't exactly the best pies in London, either. Everyone was flocking to Mrs. Mooney's shop, but Catherine could never understand what was so good about her mother's rival's pies. _

_"Well, someone went and told the law," said Mrs. Lovett. _

_"Is that why that officer was here the other day?" Catherine asked. _

_"Yes," her mother answered. "Apparently I'm not taking care of you very well, and they've told me that they're going to take you away." Catherine stared at her mother in disbelief. _

_"Take me away?" she asked after a moment. "But... they can't do that! They can't take me from you! They can't!"_

_"They're the law, dear," Mrs. Lovett said. "They can do what they want. And with us... that involves taking you away."_

_"But... but... why?" Catherine asked, her eyes filling with tears._

_"Because they say that since I don't have very much money, I can't take care of you," said Mrs. Lovett. "And that means they're taking you away, taking you to a better home, where they can provide for you until I'm able to."_

_"Only until then?" asked Catherine._

_"Only until then," Mrs. Lovett clarified. "But, they did give me two choices as to where to send you."_

_"What're they?" Catherine asked. _

_"Well, I can either send you to live with Judge Turpin or send you to America." Catherine grimaced. Not on her life was she living with that atrocity Turpin!_

_"I'm not living with the judge," she stated flatly. "I wouldn't live with him even if my life depended on it!"_

_"I don't want you living with Judge Turpin either," agreed Mrs. Lovett. _

_"Does that mean... America?" Catherine asked._

_"I'm afraid so," Mrs. Lovett said. _

_"Aww..." Catherine bowed her head. She could feel tears welling up and spilling over, but she refused to let her mother see. She couldn't cry in front of her... it wasn't right. Just like she couldn't lose her temper in front of her, either. She hated to be anything but happy in front of Mrs. Lovett; when she was sad, it'd make Mrs. Lovett sad, too, and she hated seeing her mother sad. _

_"Come here, love," Mrs. Lovett murmured to her. "It's all right to cry. It's all right..." Catherine turned and wrapped her arms around her, clinging to her, letting the tears fall onto her shoulder. She felt Mrs. Lovett rubbing her back and stroking her hair, trying to comfort her. Catherine didn't want to leave... She wanted to stay right here, with her mother, forever..._

_"Mrs. Lovett?" A sudden, stern, masculine voice at the closed door caused them to break apart. Catherine rubbed her eyes and saw Mrs. Lovett doing the same before replying, "Come in." _

_Two police officers stepped into the room. Upon seeing them, Catherine shrunk into herself out of fear. What were two officers doing here? _

_"Have you made your decision?" one of them asked. "Where are we sending her?" He pointed to Catherine. _

_Mrs. Lovett hesitated; Catherine could still see tears lingering in her eyes. _

_"America," she finally answered. "I'm not having her live with Judge Turpin."_

_"All right," the officer said. "Catherine... come."_

_Catherine looked between him and her mother. After a few minutes, she shouted, "No!" and clung to Mrs. Lovett. The officer's eyes narrowed, and the other police officer stepped forward and attempted to pick her up, wrapping his arms around her torso._

_"Come on, Catherine," he said, trying to pull her off. "You have to leave now... Just let go of Mrs. Lovett..."_

_"No!" Catherine shouted again, tightening her hold. The other officer ran and grabbed Mrs. Lovett, who started struggling. _

_"Let go of me!" she cried._

_"No! Mum!" Catherine cried. "I'm not leaving! I'm not leaving! I'm not leaving!"_

_"Catherine, let go!" ordered the officer holding her, finally prying her free. Catherine burst into tears and started screaming, trying to thrash herself free. Upon seeing her daughter in tears, Mrs. Lovett started crying as well, her tears pouring silently down her face as the officer held her back. _

_"Let me go!" Catherine screamed, thrashing in the officer's arms. "Let me go! I'm not leaving my mum! Let me go, you bastards!"_

_"Catherine!" said Mrs. Lovett. "Don't say that!"_

_"Well, they are!" Catherine protested. "Let me go! Let me go!" _

_The other officer let go of Mrs. Lovett and approached Catherine. He then took out his police baton and turned to Mrs. Lovett. "I'm sorry about this," he apologized. He then turned and smacked Catherine in the back of the head with it, knocking her out instantly. _

_"A good day to you, ma'am," said the officer holding Catherine. They both then turned and walked out the door. _

"...and that's all I remember," Catherine said as she concluded. Toby's eyes were wide.

"They beat you in back of the head?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, not beat, per say," Catherine answered. "Just hit me there. They had to get me under control some way, right? Haven't seen Mum since, and I'm not going to see her anytime soon." She shrugged. "Oh well. Like I said before, what's dead is dead, and there's nothing I can do about it. Just have to keep living life, I suppose... anyway. Toby dear, I hate to be rude, but... can you go away? I'm trying to sleep."

"Oh, sure," Toby obliged. He stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him. Catherine sat there in the chair, thinking about that fateful day, but after a moment, turned over and went to sleep.


	8. Chapter 7: Captured Innocence

_**A/N: Well, finally, I'm back with another chappy! I'm sorry it took so long... I had a bit of writer's block with this chappy. Because of the content of this chappy, I've upped its rating to M, so it's gonna have to remain M for the rest of the story, I think. Well... enjoy this chappy!! I, for one, don't think the ending's that good... but meh. **_

_**Chapter 7: Captured Innocence**_

A couple of weeks later, Catherine and Toby were busy serving the shop's first customers. About a week after Catherine had come back, word had spread that after a year, Mrs. Lovett's pie shop had reopened under new management. Now, as of a few days ago, customers had started coming in, and today was the busiest day yet.

"Toby!" Catherine called, pushing aside an unbaked pie and preparing to make another. Taking the rolling pin and preceding to beat the dough, she looked up as the boy arrived at the counter.

"I've got to run down to the bakehouse," she told him. "I'll be back with more pies... Start serving gin!"

"All right," Toby nodded. Catherine threw down the rolling pin, grabbed a plate with several unbaked pies and rushed down to the bakehouse.

Pulling open the door, she replaced the freshly baked pies with the unbaked ones, burning her finger in the process.

"Bloody thing," she cursed as she slammed the door shut. She then took the plate with the pies and walked back up the stairs back into the shop.

The crowded place was buzzing with noise as conversations and eating commenced. When Catherine stepped into the shop with her plate of pies, there was a loud yell of rejoice and appreciation from two tables across the room.

"Hey! Lovett!" called a rugged male voice. "How about givin' us some pies, girl!" Catherine rolled her eyes as she walked towards the two tables. Of course, they were crowded with men... drunk men. They would always flirt with and hit on her... She found it extremely annoying.

_"Hey!" _crowed one of the men as she reached the tables and started serving. "Little Lovett... you're one _fine_ girl!"

"Whoo, look at that ass!" called another.

"And that chest..." added a third. _"Damn,_ would I _love_ to make her mine!"

Catherine rolled her eyes again. Damn bloody drunks... Did they have nothing better to do than come down here to harass her?

"There ya go," she said finally, straightening up with the empty plate. As she was turning to leave, the man who had yelled across the shop suddenly grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her onto his lap.

"Closing time's soon, ain't it?" he slurred. He leaned in close, and Catherine could smell his gin-tainted breath. _Filthy bloody drunk... _she thought.

"'Ow about you an' me take advantage of the night... in _your_ bed?" he murmured in her ear. Catherine, outraged, immediately stood up and pulled out her razor. Opening it and pointing the blade at him, she growled, "Try it and you won't survive five minutes of the night."

The man chuckled. "Feisty, aren't we?" he asked. "Ar, I _hate_ feisty girls. Too big of egos. Too much brain!" He shrugged. "Why don't you go make more pies, sweetie?" Catherine narrowed her eyes before turning around. As she began walking away, the man suddenly slapped her rear end, laughing. Catherine stopped and slowly turned around, her eyes murderous. She raised the plate she was holding and brought it down on his head with a yell, shattering the plate. The man's eyes grew angry, and he began to rise out of his chair.

"Get back here, you little bitch!" he yelled, his voice slurred. Catherine swiftly pointed the blade at him again, walking towards him so he was forced to sit back down. She leaned in towards him.

"You see this?" she growled, waving the razor in front of his eyes. "If you _ever_ make any unwelcome advances on me again, you will find this slashing across your throat!"

He glared at her, but before he could say anything, Catherine angrily stormed away, closing her razor and tucking it inside her bodice.

She tiredly slumped down onto the counter as Toby turned the sign in the door to Closed.

"Thank God they've all gone" she said as the boy walked to the counter and leaned on it in front of her.

"Did you hear those drunks?" she exclaimed, propping her head up on her hands. "Those bloody bastards were hitting on me! Ooh, what I wouldn't give to drag my silver across their wretched throats..." She let out a satisfied giggle, then looked up to find Toby staring, horrified, at her. "What?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," Toby answered quickly, shaking his head. Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she said, straightening up. After a moment of looking around, she said, "I need to go buy some supplies... I know a few shops that are still open. Toby, stay here, will you?" Toby nodded, and Catherine left the shop.

The man hid in the darkness of the alley, his eyes dimly glowing orbs, like a cat's. He crouched behind a stack of boxes, waiting for tonight's unfortunate victim.

He held the same routine each night: He would go eat at Lovett's pie shop, then after nightfall, he would hide down here and wait in silence to ambush the next idiot who stumbled down this alley. No matter the size, no matter the orientation, no matter the gender... none of it mattered to him. He didn't really care who showed up, but he had a preference for young female virgins. _They_ were untouched. _They_ were still innocent. He could easily overpower them and claim them, and the knowledge that they'd never be the same again continued to fuel his passion for his work.

He would attack them, and once he was finished, leave. After a few minutes, he'd return, and he'd kill them if they hadn't escaped. But he didn't really need to worry about them escaping... it rarely happened, and those that did usually committed shameful suicide in three days.

Of course, there was a warrant out for his arrest, but nobody could ever manage to find him. He loved the nickname the authorities had given him: Killer Alleycat. It suited him rather well...

He suddenly was completely alert as he heard footsteps coming slowly towards him.

Catherine walked cautiously. This alley was the only way she could get to and from the shops quickly, perfect when she was on a time schedule. She needed to hurry and get to the shops before they closed, but she needed to be fully alert. She pulled out her razor from her bodice and slowly opened it. One could never be too careful in these parts...

She suddenly heard a rustling and stopped. Looking around, she felt something approaching her from behind. Right as she turned around, her razor raised, a dark figure threw itself at her. Her scream was muffled by a grimy hand as she was slammed against one of the alley walls.

"Now, jus' be quiet an' you won't get hurt," muttered a vaguely familiar voice. Catherine quickly recognized it as the voice of the same man who had hit on her in the shop!

He moved his hand, and she spat, "So _you're_ the rapist... Killer Alleycat!"

"That I am," the man replied. "And it looks like I've just caught a fresh _mouse."_ Catherine's eyes narrowed, and she began to lift her razor.

"Not this time, Alleycat," she growled. The man suddenly reached up, grabbed her wrist, and trapped it against the wall over her head.

"Really, now," he said, sliding her open razor out from her grip. "I don't think you're in any position to say such things..." He held the blade in front of her face. "Not while I've got your precious little silver blade, you're not. And guess what..." His other hand crept to her back and found the fastenings of her dress. His eyes grew lustful as he began to unfasten them. "Your beautiful sixteen-year-old body is _mine._ You're _all_ mine. I guess we're taking advantage of the night after all, aren't we, little Catherine Lovett?!" Catherine's eyes widened, and she struggled to break free and throw the man's weight off her. The Alleycat's eyes glinted, and he suddenly slashed her in the face with her razor.

The young sixteen-year-old felt blood start to run over the pale skin of her cheek, and she continued to struggle, the night air causing her wound to start stinging. "Let me go!" she cried, starting to thrash under him.

"Shut _up!"_ he replied, lifting the razor again, this time slashing her across her right collarbone. She cried out in pain, and the man roughly ripped off her dress so she was only in her undergarments. He then threw her to the other side of the alley so he could get a good look at her.

Catherine's head struck the opposite wall as she crumpled to the ground. Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to keep conscious. She used the wall to pull herself to her feet and looked up to find that the Alleycat was looking over her rather hungrily. He suddenly stalked over to her, trapped her against the wall, and dragged the blade down the front of her corset, slicing it open and causing it to fall off. Catherine gasped as the man threw the razor over his shoulder and yanked off her bottom undergarments.

"Let me go!" she shouted as he began to mess with his trousers. _"Now!_ I'm warning you..."

She looked down to see him pull his throbbing member out from his trousers, then he pressed his body to hers, trapping her even more.

"Like I said, love..." he murmured, running his hands down her body in a way that made her shiver, "you're all _mine."_ Before she could respond, he entered her roughly.

She screamed in pain as he began thrusting, slow at first, but faster as time wore on. Tears filled her eyes as he continued, his hands cupping her breasts and his mouth attacking her collarbone. Each thrust was so painful for her...

"You're so tight, love..." the Alleycat murmured lustfully as he pumped harder. "Looks like I've caught meself a virgin... my favorite." He purred as his fingers played with one of her nipples. Tears flowed down her face.

"Please... please let me go..." she begged, her voice almost a sob. She had even stopped thrashing and struggling. She was angry at the Alleycat, but more angry at herself. She had let this happen... she had allowed it to happen... she couldn't fight him off! She truly was a weak little girl after all, just pretending to be strong. She was so angry at herself... She deserved this. She knew she did. She deserved all of this...

He gave one final thrust and spilled his seed into her. She screamed, and he licked her collarbone before finally pulling out and letting her go. As he stepped back, Catherine closed her eyes. She slid down the wall and finally came to rest on the ground on her front.

"I'll come back for you later, _my pet,"_ he sneered. Catherine didn't move, and his footsteps echoed into nothingness.

After crying for a couple of minutes, Catherine finally sat up, wiping away the remaining tears. She knew she'd better get out of there quickly, because when he came back, that would be the end of her. She didn't want to die yet...

With this thought in her mind, she pulled up her bottom undergarments, picked up her now-useless corset and her razor, and crawled over to her dress. She quickly slipped it on and, realizing her hair had been taken out of its updo, swept a couple of deep brown locks behind her ear. She shakily stood up and, thankful the dress wasn't damaged, raced out of the alley towards the shop, her errand forgotten.

She finally entered the shop, slamming the door behind her. Toby looked up, startled, from where he was cleaning the counter. "Catherine, are you all right?"

She ignored him and stormed into the back room, slamming that door as well. She threw her corset on the floor and her razor on the bed, then throwing herself on the bed.

She started crying into her pillow. "Mum!" she shouted, her voice muffled. "I hate this! I hate myself! _I hate this!"_

She then cried herself to sleep.


End file.
